In the Face of Discouragment
by Emperor Tiberius
Summary: On her first mission, Kitty vanishes. Though most believe her dead, Scott vows to find her... whatever the consequences. Scott/Kitty
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own the X-Men. If I did, I would've made better movies about them. If you enjoy the story, drop a line.

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**In the Face of Discouragement**

_"What we do not see, what most of us never suspect of existing, is the silent but irresistible power which comes to the rescue of those who fight on in the face of discouragement."_

-Napoleon Hill

_"Leadership is the other side of the coin of loneliness, and he who is a leader must always act alone. And acting alone, accept everything alone."_

-Ferdinand E. Marcos

_"Wisdom is knowing what to do next, skill is knowing how to do it, and virtue is doing it."_

-David Starr Jordan

It was on her third mission that they lost her. Scott remembered the day all too clearly… indeed, it ceaselessly tormented him, day and night. He could not quiet his mind; given a moment's inattention, it would wander back over the events of that day, wondering if there was something, anything, he could have done differently. Something that would have made the difference, that would have made it so she came home with the rest of them, instead of vanishing without a trace.

They had just been beginning to let the newest X-men out of training, taking them out on missions (only the lowest threat ones, of course) one by one. That day, when the Professor called them into the Briefing Room to inform them of their task, it seemed simple; collect a newly emerged mutant, and bring him back to the safety of the mansion, if he so wished. The mutant, a young man named Ken Wathord, apparently secreted a powerful venom, and was equipped with a set of fangs to deliver it with. He was living in a foster home which was apparently very harsh, and the Professor thought they would have little trouble in convincing the youth to come with them.

The first turning point in the day was when the Professor asked Scott, as Team Leader, which of the young X-men would be best suited for the mission. After a minute's consideration, Scott had chosen Kitty. Less alarmingly cheerful than Jubilee, and also less withdrawn than Rogue, Kitty seemed the perfect choice to help reassure Ken that they were on the level. Scott cursed himself a hundred times a day for that choice… but there was nothing he could do about it now.

Suiting up, Kitty had seemed a little nervous. It was difficult to notice, and no-one but Scott, who took his leadership duties very seriously, noticed it. He let the others go ahead towards the Blackbird, and held Kitty back a moment. "Are you all right?" he'd asked her gently.

Kitty nodded quickly and looked away. "I'm fine. Just… still a little nervous with the whole thing."

Scott touched her on the shoulder and gave her a reassuring smile. He was never sure exactly how much people could really get from his facial expressions, with his eyes covered all the time, so he tried hard to infuse his smiles with extra warmth. "It'll be all right, Shadowcat." He purposefully stressed her recently chosen code-name, emphasizing the fact that she was one of the team now. "Just stay close, and do what I tell you. I won't let anything happen to you."

Kitty smiled shyly in return. "Thanks. I will."

Scott cocked his head towards the Blackbird. "Come on now. It's time."

The location was in northern Vermont, so the flight was not a long one. They set down a distance from the town, and went in on foot. Though Scott did not expect trouble, he still kept a sharp look-out. The safety of the others was his responsibility, and even if they relaxed, he needed to be alert. Once they reached the address, a tall apartment building with a faded and peeling yellow paint job, Scott instructed Jean and Ororo to set up a perimeter, while he and Kitty went in to get Ken.

They made their way up to the proper floor without much trouble, though the elevator was out of commission. Scott's long legs made easy work of the stairs, and Kitty kept up without effort, he was pleased to note. By the time they reached the twelfth floor, both were still breathing easily. The first hint that Scott had that something was very wrong was when they came to the door, and found it ajar, the lock broken. Scott stopped, and held a hand up to halt Kitty.

"Full alert," he told Kitty crisply. "Possible hostile situation." He activated his comm-link. "Jean? What's your status?"

There was no answer. Scott repeated himself twice more, than switched to Ororo. "Storm?"

"Here, Cyclops. All clear."

"Negative," Scott rejoined, keeping a wary eye on the hall to both sides of him. "Hostile situation. No contact with enemy as yet, but Jean will not answer. Check it out. We're going to look for Ken."

"Understood."

"Look out!" Kitty screamed. She leaped into Scott, bringing him crashing to the ground as the silence was broken by the heavy stutter of a submachine gun. Scott broke his fall skillfully, and from his position on the ground, blasted the black-uniformed man with an optic ray. Their assailant flew back and slammed into the stair railing before crumpling to the floor in a heap. Scott could hear booted feet on the stairs.

He spent a moment assessing his choices. The stairs were the only way out, unless they either attempted to escape through the elevator shaft, which Scott was sure would be a disaster, or he told Ororo to pick them up at a window, which was also a chancy proposition. Scott's first instinct was to withdraw immediately, and fight another day, but they still didn't know if Ken was still in the apartment or not.

"Shadowcat!" Scott rapped out as he came to his feet. "I'll try to secure our escape route. You go check out the apartment. Be very cautious."

"Yes, sir." Kitty whirled and dove through the door without bothering to open it.

Scott sent a heavy beam lancing into the head of the first man that came above the level of the landing. He hoped to both awe the enemy with his power, and hopefully send the man tumbling back down and into his comrades, slowing them down. The fact that the men were completely covered in black uniforms, and armed with HK MP5's, which were a popular special ops weapon for the Army, was setting off all kinds of alarm bells in his head.

A moment later, when a grenade arched up from the stairwell to clatter on the floor of the hallway, his fears were justified. Scott dove backwards to the ground, hitting moments before the blast. The noise, inside the confined space, was deafening. A large portion of the floor and wall were severely damaged by the explosion. Scott made it to the door of the apartment just as the attackers rushed the stairs again, and the floor about his feet absorbed a hail of bullets as he leapt inside…

To crash directly into another one of their mysterious assailants. Scott knocked the man's gun out of his hand, but the soldier, hesitating not an instant, pulled a combat knife and struck with vicious speed. Scott dodged to the side, blocked a second cut, and lashed out with his fist, catching his opponent in the pit of the stomach. In the split second reprieve, he blasted the man into the wall.

He had no time to regroup, or look for Kitty, who was nowhere to be seen. Two more men emerged from the bedroom, and opened fire immediately. Scott darted for cover, but felt an impact on his thigh as a bullet struck home. Calculating the geometrics with flashing speed, Scott sent an optic beam into the far wall at an angle, where it ricocheted off and hit the soldiers pinning him down. They screamed, and the firing stopped abruptly. Thunder rumbled outside, and he heard an explosion. The building shook.

"Storm!" Scott called urgently through his comm-link. "What's your status?" Another explosion sounded, channeled through the com-link; Storm did not reply. The door to the apartment exploded in a shower of wood-chips as it was inundated with bullets. Scott sought the temporary shelter of the bedroom; to his disappointment and growing fear, Kitty was not there either. The room looked like a struggle had taken place in it; bullet-holes marked the walls and bed. Pausing a moment, he sniffed the air. It carried a definite scent of smoke. The building was on fire.

Scott knew that getting out the door was not an option. He'd already seen how these men operated; if they met resistance, they simply blew it out of the way, careless of collateral damage. Any moment, they'd be coming in. Racing to the window, he kicked it out. The sound of glass splintering was surprisingly loud. Taking a deep breath, Scott leapt out the window as the door behind him burst open.

As he fell, Scott looked downwards, and took off his visor. The resulting beam smote the ground below with a sound of thunder, smashing the asphalt into dust, slowing his fall. He hit the ground hard, and closed his eyes. Scott's body ached terribly, but as he got to his feet and slipped on his visor, he found that nothing was broken.

Cautiously and quickly, he made it back to the Blackbird. The apartment building burned behind him, but he heard no sirens coming to investigate or help. He saw three more squads of black-uniformed men, and avoided two of them. The other, he wiped out after a minute of tense fighting. Scott gave no mercy. These men had shown their colors, and he gave them no chance to escape or report their plight.

Storm was waiting at the plane, already warming it up for take-off. Jean lay on the floor in the back of the plane, bloodied but breathing. Ororo herself was dirty and bruised; a wound in her shoulder was bleeding freely. Scott took over the pilot's seat, and told Storm to tend her wound and see to Jean.

"Where's Kitty?" Storm inquired, her voice worried and tight with pain.

Scott gritted his teeth, his hands flying over the controls. "She vanished. I think… they took her."

Storm's eyes widened. "I saw the building fall," she whispered, horror-struck. "Cyclops, was she… still inside?"

Scott shook his head. "I don't know, Storm. I just… don't know."

They made it back to Westchester, and safety. Jean had been drugged, but revived after several hours, groggy but none the worse for wear. Ororo's shoulder wound healed in time. Scott never allowed his injuries to slow him down; if he felt pain, no-one saw it. But Kitty was gone.

The Professor went into Cerebro as soon as they returned, searching for her. His face was grave when he emerged. He was silent a long moment, looking around at the tense and worried faces of his X-men. "I could not find her," he said at last, his voice sorrowful. "I'm afraid… I'm afraid she did not make it."

They held a funeral a week later, laying an empty casket in the ground on the edge of the mansion grounds. The Professor made a speech, and everyone cried as they bid farewell to their friend and team-mate. Everyone… but Scott.

* * *

…**One Year Later**

Jean Grey checked the clock again and frowned. Scott was still absent. He'd said he'd meet her in their room at seven, so they could prepare for going out, but it was seven-ten and he was no-where to be seen. Jean felt… empty inside. He'd been doing this to her often in the past while, and she'd forgiven him again and again, but this time, she'd extracted a solemn promise from him to be on time. She'd spent a long time planning this night, and they needed to leave soon if they wished to meet the reservations for the high-class restaurant she'd arranged. Doing a quick scan for him with her mind, she located him in his office. Jean thought of simply sending him a thought telling him to hurry, but he would probably respond, and then forget all about it a moment later. He'd been like that lately. Sighing internally, Jean dropped her purse on the table and went up to get him.

When she reached his office, Jean paused a moment at the half-open door before going in. From her position, she could see him working furiously on something on his computer, jaw tense and eyes fixed on the screen. The room was lit only by a small-desk lamp, throwing his face into sharp relief. Jean studied him, thinking of the man behind the visor. One of the things she'd always liked most about him was his self-control. Scott was a man who kept his emotions in check, who worked calmly and methodically, who was totally dependable. That had been changing more and more lately.

Now, every time Jean looked into his mind she was met by a confused morass of disjointed thoughts and painful emotions. She'd been shutting him out for a while now. Jean had to deal with confused thoughts and swirling emotions day in and day out, and she felt saddened that Scott, who was supposed to be the one unchanging aspect in her universe, a solid haven for her to retreat to, was giving her the worst headaches of all.

She opened the door slowly, but Scott did not react, engrossed by his work. Jean cleared her throat loudly. "Hello? Scott, we need to go, and you aren't even changed yet!"

Scott looked up only briefly. "I'm sorry, Jean. I just… came across something. Something important. Our evening will have to wait."

On the outside, Jean was calm. On the inside, she despaired. This was it, she felt. He was showing her that she meant nothing to him, that her time, and the effort she spent in getting things arranged for them, were meaningless.

"Oh really?" Jean managed. "What have you found?" Her voice sounded hollow even to herself.

Scott was too distracted to take notice of any oddness in her tone of voice. "An informant has just sent me some coded files on some sort of device developed by the CIA to answer the 'mutant problem'. I'm still in the early stages of decoding… but I've got the name. It's called the MSD, for Mutant Suppressive Device. There's a possibility it could be the answer."

Jean nodded calmly. Calmly, she walked across the room, and calmly kicked the computer's power cable out of the wall. The machine went black with a sigh, and Scott froze a moment before looked up at her in shock. "Jean? What… Why-"

"Because I'm tired, Scott," Jean said wearily. "I'm tired of all of this, of how you have been treating me. Or how you haven't been treating me. I'm tired of being put to the side, while you go chasing the shadow of a dead girl."

Scott stood slowly. "She isn't dead," he said firmly. "And, Jean, I do care-"

Jean frowned. "I just don't believe that anymore, Scott. If you really cared for me, you'd _be_ there for me. But you aren't, not anymore. You're off somewhere in your own world, even when we are together. You never really look at me anymore."

Jean sighed. Scott opened his mouth to speak, but Jean cut him off. "Katherine Pryde is _dead_, Scott. She died on a mission you led, and no matter how guilty who feel about that _you have to let it go!_ This is killing you, don't you see it? You are falling apart. You are letting down those who look to you for leadership… and those who love you."

Scott shook his head. Jean wished, not for the first time, that she could see behind the glasses. Her telepathy was nearly useless when her emotions were clouding her gift, and his face was impossible to read.

"There is a good chance she's still alive, Jean. And if she is, it is my responsibility to find her. I can't just give up. There is no-one else who will do this but me."

"Do you know why that is, Scott? She's dead. Gone. The Professor looked for her with Cerebro. If he couldn't find her, she simply isn't alive. End of story."

Scott gestured towards the silent computer. "This new evidence could be why he can't find her."

Jean shook her head slowly. "You don't see it, Scott. If only you'd listen to me, trust me more. But you don't, and I'm beginning to think that you never did. You never loved me, never really cared for me. I'm just one more duty to you, and not even one you've been fulfilling well lately."

Scott flinched. "Don't say things like that, Jean. I do love you, more than anything… but don't you see, she was under our protection. She was still so young. We made her promises, told her we'd protect her. She'll be counting on that, counting on _us_. And, ultimately, it is up to me to find her, as Team Leader. You cannot ask me to abandon that."

Jean looked him straight in the eye through his visor. "I've been asking you to abandon it for the last year, Scott. You won't listen, that is true. Well, I think you've really shown me what place I have in your life." All color and emotion was leached from her voice, leaving only a dull heaviness, and she looked down. "At least we didn't get married. Better to find out sooner than later. I guess I can thank Kitty for that much; her death showed exactly what kind of a man you are Scott. And who you are is no-one I want to be around." Before she closed the door to his office behind her, she paused for a moment, and in that time, Scott hoped fleetingly that she'd say something else, say she hadn't meant the words she'd uttered, anything. But all she said, without even looking at him, was, "Good-bye, Scott."

A week later, with Jean and Scott no longer living together, the Professor called Scott into his office.

Xavier studied his one-time student as he entered. Scott was gaunt and pale, with dark circles under his eyes. He was still well groomed, but there was a weary, distracted air about him that was very worrying. He came up and sat down in the chair opposite the Professor. "Yes, sir?"

"Scott," Xavier greeted him. "How are you feeling?"

Scott shrugged. "I'm sure you know how I feel, sir," he said flatly.

The Professor folded his hands together on the desk in front of him. "Yes. But I want you to tell me in your own words."

Scott exhaled slowly, tension showing plainly in his lean form. "Sir, with respect, I don't have time for this. I'm on to something, and I need to keep working on it. Will you please excuse me?"

Xavier shook his head. "Not just yet. I can sense much turmoil in you, Scott. It is distressing to see you in so much pain. It doesn't have to be this way, you know."

"I don't see how it could be any different."

"Jean still loves you, I think," Xavier said gently. "She simply cannot stay by you when you are being this… irrational. Go to her. Tell her you were wrong. Then you can be together again, and everyone will be happy."

Scott shook his head slowly, and his face contorted in pain. "As much as I long to, Professor, I cannot. I… cannot"

The Professor sighed. "Scott, look at yourself. This is tearing you apart. Why do you not trust _my_ judgment? Kitty is dead. I have searched for her many times with Cerebro. There is no possibility that I made a mistake. If she were alive, I would feel her presence. That is all there is to it. You must let her go."

Scott leaned forward. "I have good reason to believe, Professor, that there is a machine, called the MSD, which could possibly block your telepathy-"

Xavier held up a hand to stop him. "Scott, please don't start. While I am not prone to self-aggrandizement, I will point out that I am one of the most powerful telepaths on the planet, if not the most powerful. I do not believe that a machine could be developed that would block Cerebro without inside knowledge of the machine, and that is well-nigh impossible. Not that there is even any solid evidence that any such exists. No!" he cut Scott off as the other opened his mouth. "No, Scott. Enough is enough. You must drop this fruitless search. It is your duty as a leader to pay attention to those under your charge who are still alive. If you cannot do that, I will have no choice but to insist you seek professional help."

Scott was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed and looked down. "Perhaps you are right, sir. But I can't… really think clearly right now. I'm too distraught. Let me sleep on it, and we can talk again in the morning."

The Professor smiled at him. "That sounds quite reasonable. You are making the right choice, Scott. I'm proud of you."

Scott smiled wanly in return as he stood. As he left, closing the door carefully behind him, his face was grim. He was glad that, after years of living under Xavier, he had learned to show his mentor just what he wanted to see. Xavier could easily pierce his deception by looking directly into his mind, but Scott intended to give him no opportunity to do that.

In the small hours of the morning, Scott hefted his travel pack and considered for a moment before deciding it was down to an acceptable weight. He went over the equipment he was taking one last time. It was all his own… he would not take anything of the Professor's on this hunt. If they would not support him, that was their choice, but they had no right to try and stop him. Scott had to stop himself from grinding his teeth every time he thought of the Professor's comment about getting him professional help.

Everything seemed to be in place. Scott, who was in charge of school security, had given himself a five minute window to leave. During that period, the security system would shut itself off in a counterfeit power surge. Scott took a deep breath and checked his watch. It was time to go.

He made his way quietly through the darkened hallways. He didn't want to meet anyone, and was worried he'd bump into a student in search of a late-night snack. Luckily, it looked like everyone was actually sleeping for a change. Scott made it to the garage with time to spare, and set his pack down with a small sigh as he prepared for the short wait until his time of departure.

"Scott," came a smooth voice from behind him. He whirled around, hand instinctively moving to his visor. Ororo emerged from the shadows behind him, face serene despite his threatening posture.

"Don't try to stop me, Ororo," Scott said fiercely.

Ororo shook her head. "I don't intend to." Seeing his expression of surprise, she shrugged gracefully. "I may not agree with you, Scott, but this is your choice to make. I respect that."

Scott dropped his hand away from the side of the visor and smiled a little. "Thank you, Ororo. This… means a lot to me."

Ororo embraced him, and Scott returned the hug powerfully. When his arms slackened, she pulled back and regarded him in the dim light of the garage. "If she is out there, Scott, I know you can get her back. But please, take care. We need you."

"I will." Scott let her go, and picked up his pack. "Goodbye, Ororo."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I don't own the X-Men. Scout's honor. Cross my heart and hope to die.

Make an author smile today! Give a review! The best part of it is, they're totally free!

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He took a rental car under an assumed name for part of the way. Several times over the next day, he felt the searching sweep of the Professor's mind; and each time, he managed to blur the contact enough that he was sure his mentor could not tell where he was. He had been afraid, when he left, that the tricks he had learned would not be enough, and the Professor would find him and bring him back. It was with a renewed sense of confidence he continued his journey.

He reached his goal, a small, dingy warehouse in New York City, in good time. He parked the car a block off and cased the area before walking in. He was dealing with the dregs of society here. As much as he hated doing it, no one else had the information he sought. Steeling himself to the task, he entered.

A bell rang faintly somewhere off in the distance, and the small, rat-like man behind the counter looked up with a disconcertingly wide grin. "Good morning, sir! What can I get for you today?"

Scott strode up to the counter and regarded the man in silence just long enough for his grin to start to crack around the edges. "I'm looking for Vince," he said at last. "Know where I can find him?"

The small man appeared puzzled. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. I think you have the wrong address." His hands disappeared underneath the counter.

Scott's hand flew to his visor. "Pull that gun out and you're a dead man." He said it calmly, matter-of-factly. The small man flinched, but his hands did not come back up.

"You try anything, pretty boy," he spat, "and-"

"The two men in the other room will shoot me," Scott finished for him unconcernedly. "But you'd still be dead. I don't think you want that. I'll ask again, where is Vince?"

The small man regarded him with a hint of fear. "What are you?" he asked.

"Something beyond your ken," Scott replied, his voice silk over steel. "I will not ask again. In a moment, people are going to start dying, and you'll be the first."

"Take it easy!" whined the man. "I might be Vince. Possibly. What d'you want with him?"

Scott did not relax one iota. "I need to know where you got the information you sold to Ammon." That was the codename he'd used in his dealings with this man.

"I don't reveal my sources," Vince hissed. "You know that."

"I'll pay handsomely," Scott returned. "And if you decide not to tell me, then you will die. That is all there is to it. You have only the two options; death, or life with more money. Which will it be?"

For a moment, events hung in the balance. Vince regarded him with a snarl on his face, hands still out of sight, nearly quivering with tension. Scott himself stood still as a statue, one hand on the controls of his visor, ready to blast Vince to oblivion at any hint of foul play.

"Brandon Decker," Vince said at last, reluctantly. "A guard working at St. Mark's Research Institute in southern Montana. I'm going to take my hands out now, and print out the information. Don't shoot."

"Don't move too quickly," Scott returned darkly.

Vince did move slowly, and his hands were empty when he brought them out. Firing up a dirty old computer nearly buried under crumpled papers on the counter, he quickly printed out several sheets of paper, and shoved them across the grimy counter at Scott. "There."

Scott took a roll of bills out of his pocket with his left hand, and tossed them to Vince, who caught them dexterously. He then took the papers, his hand never leaving his visor. "I'll take my leave now." He began to back out of the warehouse.

Vince looked after him with loathing, and seemed to be considering whether or not trying to kill him would be worthwhile. Finally, just as Scott reached the door, he gave him another wide grin. "Pleasure doing business with you… Ammon."

Scott closed the door, cutting off his sight of Vince's leering expression. He made his way quickly to the car, and drove off swiftly. It was almost an hour before he stopped shaking.

Three weeks later, Scott lay within view of St. Marks's Research Institute, camouflaged in mud and debris from head to toe. He'd arrived last night, and spent the time from then until now cat-napping and studying the security patterns. The place was heavily patrolled, much too heavily patrolled for a simple Research Institute, and the security cameras and alarms looked state-of-the-art. And the most damning piece of evidence of all was that once Scott had come within a hundred yards of the building, his powers had stopped working.

He took a day longer to formulate his plan, considering it from every angle. He memorized the layout of the surrounding land, learned the patrol times by heart, and even many of the guard's names. He knew when he struck, it would have to be fast and brutal, with no room for either mistakes or mercy. Scott hated killing, but he knew he had no choice. He tried to comfort himself with the thought that anyone who could work at a place like this would probably be a bad person.

That night, when John Harden and Lamont Pierce went out on patrol, they came back with John leaning heavily on Lamont. "What happened?" one of the guards at the main entrance asked urgently, grabbing his machine pistol. "Are we under attack?"

"No, just some -- bear," Lamont said shakily. "Dead now, but it got John's leg. I'm going to help him to the medical center. Can you call Flint and Gary to cover for us?"

"Sure thing. Just get him out of here. He's bleeding all over the floor, and it's me who's gonna have to clean it up."

Lamont nodded in thanks, and John stayed hunched over in pain. Slowly, they made their way through the gleaming white corridors of the Institute to the medical center. As they entered, the grey-haired doctor on duty looked up at them from a pile of paperwork on his desk. His eyes widened, and he quickly stood up and came over. "What happened?" he asked.

Scott threw back John's coat to show the gun in his hand. "Me," he said simply. "Don't move or sound the alarm, or I'll-"

The doctor darted for what Scott could only assume was an alarm switch. Scott was faster. The doctor fell dead with two bullets in his head before he crossed half the distance. The shots made little sound; Scott's pistol, a FN Five-SeveN, was both fitted with a suppressor and firing cold-loaded ammunition. It made the shots slower and less lethal, but at this range, it mattered not at all.

Scott trained the gun back on Lamont, who was making for the door. "Touch that and you die!" Scott snapped. Lamont halted with his hand outstretched towards the door handle. "Turn around and come back." Lamont obeyed reluctantly, his eyes avoiding the doctor's dead body. "You are going to lead me to the prisoners."

Lamont's gaze was dully hostile. "Won't matter, --. I'm not cleared to get in, and I'll bet my last three paychecks _you_ aren't either. And if you think you can just shoot the lock off a door and get them out, you're even more --ed up than I think."

Keeping the pistol pointed at Lamont, Scott reached down and snagged the dead doctor's security pass. "This, I think, will get me in. And if there are any surprises, I'm sure you'll alert me to them. After all, if anything goes wrong, you'll be the first to die. Now, I'm looking for a specific mutant, named Katherine Pryde. How do I find out where she is?"

Lamont paused a moment, then shrugged and pointed towards the computer on the corner desk. "It'd probably be in there somewhere. If you know the password… because I sure don't."

Scott waved him towards the chair. "Sit down and take a look."

Lamont obeyed with poor grace, but once he sat down, he stopped before putting his hand on the mouse, and looked straight at Scott. "Who are you? A relative of hers? If you are, let me tell you man, she's better off here. Whatever she was to you before, you have to understand she's a mutant now. She's not _human_. The person you knew before is dead."

Scott raised his eyebrows. "Is that what you tell yourself to get to sleep at night, when you look in the mirror? We're all humans, Pierce. Us mutants… are just a little different. But we are all akin to one another."

Lamont scowled. "Should've known… --n' mutant." He turned his attention to the computer. "It's… already logged in," he reported reluctantly. "I'll search the experimental roster." Keys clicked briskly for a moment. Lamont frowned. "What was her name again? Katrina?"

"Katherine Pryde," Scott repeated levelly.

Lamont grunted a moment later. "Ok. Here you go. Subject #136, Pryde, Katherine. Codename Ghost. She's undergoing… reorientation and training in Section 3."

Scott's blood ran cold at the word 'reorientation', at the same time his entire being swelled with joy. He been right, she was alive… but they'd had her for more than a year. He prayed she still remembered who she was. "Take me there," he ordered Lamont.

* * *

When they finally reached her holding cell, Scott slipped the doctor pass through the lock, and opened the door quickly. "Now, think carefully," he told Lamont. "Is there anything else I should know about?"

Lamont shrugged. "What does it matter? You'll kill me, whatever happens. I might as well take you down with me, right?"

"Play straight with me, and I'll offer you the same courtesy," Scott replied. "I will not kill you unless you force my hand. It is not something I like to do."

Lamont snorted. "And I'm supposed to believe the word of a --ing mutant? What d'you take me for, brain-dead?"

Scott hesitated, then reached up and slipped off his visor. Without it, the world seemed strange and green-tinted to him, but his blue eyes looked steadily into Lamont's. "I'm telling you to trust me, as one man to another. The question is, can you do that, and live, or will your hatred be your death today?"

Lamont stared back for a long minute. Then, slowly, he unclipped a small metal badge from his belt and handed it to Scott. "You need to wear one of these in there, or the alarm will sound."

Scott took it and put it on his own belt, then slipped his visor back on, sighing in relief at seeing the world as he was accustomed to. "Thank you. Now, lie down on the floor, hands behind you." He quickly snapped a pair of handcuffs around Lamont's wrists and another around his ankles. Then, taking a deep breath, he entered the cell.

And there she lay on a steel bed, clothed in a white hospital gown, a steel visor covering her eyes, the only indication she was alive the slow rise and fall of her chest. Scott was at her side with two strides. He took her visor off gently. Her eyes were open beneath it, staring unseeing up at him.

"Kitty," Scott whispered. Then a little louder, "Kitty, can you hear me? It's Cyclops… remember?"

After a moment, her eyes began to track… but as soon as she focused on him, she gasped in terror and turned her head away from him, scrabbling at the unyielding surface of the cold bed to get away from him.

Scott put a gentle restraining hand on her shoulder. "Kitty, it's ok! I'm not going to hurt you… I could never hurt you." He kept up a flow of reassuring words, feeling her slight form trembling in fear beneath his hand. After several minutes, her shaking lessened a bit, and she turned towards him again.

"Scott? Is that… really you?" Her voice was nearly inaudible, weak, and she cringed away from him as soon as she finished speaking, as if she were expecting to be punished. Scott flinched at that.

"Yes, it is really me, Kitty," he soothed. "Can you- can you stand? I'm here to get you out of this place."

Tears pooled in Kitty's eyes and trickled slowly down her cheeks. "You- you aren't just a dream, are you?"

Scott stroked her cheek, wiping away the tears. "No, I'm no dream. Come on Kitty." He helped her sit up. His heart wrenched painfully at how thin she was, how uncertain her movements were. "Now, listen to me. You're Shadowcat, remember?"

Kitty flinched violently at that. "No! No… I'm Ghost. I promise I'm Ghost. I'm not bad."

Scott hushed her. "Remember the X-Men, Kitty? You are one of them, one of us. You are Shadowcat, and you are good. A very good person, a good woman."

Kitty broke down, falling forward onto Scott's chest, sobs wracking her painfully thin body. Scott cradled her close, comforting her as best he knew how. But always, he stayed on the alert, keep one eye and ear watching for trouble. He knew it wouldn't be long now until they were discovered.

"Listen, Kitty," Scott said gently, as her sobs lessened. "We're not safe yet. We need to get out of here. I need you to be strong, to be Shadowcat for a while now. We must go."

"But, if we go, they'll punish me again," Kitty protested in a small voice. "They'll put me back in the machine, and I can't take that again, I just can't…" Her voice trailed off, and she dug her face further into Scott's chest.

Scott caressed her hair with one hand, then kneeled down, bringing his face on a level with hers. "I need you to trust me, Kitty, as you once did. I know- I know I didn't live up to that trust before. But I will now. I need you to trust that – to trust me – and come with me now. I will not let them have you again." He waited with bated breath for her answer.

Kitty looked at him for a long, long moment; then reached out and touched his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw, almost as if to reassure herself again that he was truly real. "All right," she said at last, her voice stronger. "Yes, I trust you, Scott. Take me out of here."

Scott smiled at her, then helped her to her feet. They walked out slowly, Kitty's movements uncertain, yet gamely determined. When they reached Lamont's bound form, Scott propped Kitty up against the wall for a moment, and leaned down. "It is the people who would do this sort of thing to an innocent young woman who are not human, Lamont. Think about that."

Scott felt the Gods were truly watching over them on the way out of the Institute. They met only one man along the way, a lab assistant whom Scott shot on sight. Now he had actually found Kitty, he simply could not afford to take chances with her safety. And after seeing what had been done to her, his feelings about men in white coats were violent, to say the least.

Scott surprised the gate guards, and shot both before they knew they were under attack. They were guarding against incursions from the outside, and did not look for an assault from behind. Even as they left the building, a siren went off somewhere behind them. Scott didn't know if it was because some automated machine detected Kitty leaving the building, or whether someone had stumbled upon one of the dead bodies. He didn't really care. The important thing was to get out of the radius of the MSD. Once they were, Scott could defend them both much more effectively; and Kitty, if she was strong enough yet, would be effectively immune to most attacks.

Scott had considered looking for schematics for the MSD, or even trying to find the machine itself and destroying it, but had decided against it. Kitty's safety was the first priority. Now he knew the MSD was a reality, he could return at a later time with the X-Men to deal with it. For now, the goal was escape.

Scott first realized they were in deep trouble when they crossed a ways beyond the hundred yard mark… and his powers did not return. The familiar pressure in his eyes stayed dormant. Scott even lifted his visor for a moment to test, and indeed, the familiar energy did not blast forth. "Kitty, can you phase?" he asked, not slowing their pace. If their powers still did not work for whatever reason, it was utterly imperative that they reach Scott's hidden car as fast as was possible.

Kitty looked at him, surprise in her tired face. "Of course not, Scott. There's a machine they have that emits a certain sort of radiation… that interacts strangely with the mutant gene. After being exposed to it, a mutant's powers will not work until they are exposed to a different sort of radiation."

Scott swore internally, and tried to quicken their pace. He'd never considered that the MSD might work that way. Kitty was breathing hard, a glistening sheen of sweat on her skin. Her heart hammered in her chest. "Scott," she gasped. "Where are the others? Is the Blackbird nearby?"

Scott was silent for a minute, and Kitty had almost reached the conclusion that he hadn't heard her when he answered her suddenly. "The others… are not here. I'm the only one. And I don't have the Blackbird."

Kitty noted the grim tone of his voice even through her exhaustion, and decided to save further questions along that line for a later time. She instead concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, taking it one step at a time. Just when she thought she could go no further, Scott stopped abruptly, and pulled her behind a tree.

Peering around it, Scott could see lights ahead, right where he'd hidden the car. Voices drifted faintly to them.

"…not long, sir. See there? The branches were cut recently. They'll be somewhere close."

"Very well. ALL RIGHT, LISTEN UP!! SPREAD OUT, SEARCH EVERYWHERE! Smitty, radio in for backup. I don't like this."

"Yes sir."

The voices, and the noises of men crashing through the woods, faded as Scott led Kitty off on a tangent away from his car. Once again, he cursed the cards fate had dealt him. If the patrol had come through just five minutes later, or he had been a little quicker, they would have been driving off by now, instead of stumbling blindly through the pitch-blackness of the woods.

"Scott," Kitty panted. "I'm sorry, I… can't run… anymore." Even as she spoke, her legs gave way. But before she could fall, Scott had caught her up in his strong arms. Arranging her across his shoulders in a fireman's carry, he moved quickly onwards. Kitty sighed, then drew in a deep breath, savoring his scent and that of the woods around them, so different from the harsh smells of metal and chemicals that had been her constant accompaniment for the last year. After a minute, the furious exertion she'd put her body through after such a long period of inactivity caught up with her, and she felt herself slipping away into comforting blackness…

* * *

When Kitty awoke again, it was to dim sunlight, filtering through the thickly interlaced boughs of trees close above her head. She lay on the ground, a jacket under her head for a pillow. Her ever-present feeling of sickness had dissipated somewhat, and she found herself thinking more clearly than she had in… well, a long time. Kitty had no real idea how long she'd been in the lab.

Moving slowly, she sat up. She was in a small hollow, surrounded by tall, ancient trees, their branches grown so close together that she could catch no glimpse of the sky. Scott was seated against a tree trunk only a yard to her right. He was faced her way, but with his visor on, she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake.

After a moment, he answered that by shifting slightly and addressing her. "Good afternoon, Kitty." Scott's voice was slightly stiff. "We've stopped for the day, as you can see. We need to wait until nightfall to move further. We have a better chance of evading them in the dark."

Kitty nodded slowly, trying to puzzle out his tone and body language. He seemed very upset about something. Probably her, Kitty figured sadly. In fact, that might be why none of the other X-Men were here… they didn't think it was worthwhile to rescue her. Unless…

"Um, Scott?" Kitty asked hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"There are… other X-Men, aren't there?"

Scott stared at her for a moment before answering. "Yes. Don't you – remember?"

Kitty frowned and looked away from his gaze. "Well… sort of. It's all fuzzy. I think I remember… Ororo, in her… her… garden?" She glanced up questioningly at him.

"That's right." His voice was gentle. "Is there anything else you can recall?"

Kitty shrugged uncomfortably. "Bits and pieces. But… I remembered you. I remember… that day, when I was taken. Before we went… I was nervous, and you told me you wouldn't let anything happen to me."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him flinch visibly. "I'm sorry." Scott's voice was low and hoarse. "I'm so sorry, Kitty. I – I failed you. I'm sorry."

Kitty looked up, and shook her head. "No. No, you didn't, Scott. You're here now, and that's all that matters. And you – got me through the bad times. When I couldn't keep anything else straight, and the pain was the worst, I could still see the red glow of your visor in my mind, hear your voice… you were there for me."

Scott was silent for a long minute, then grimaced and tried to shift his position against the tree trunk. Immediately, he stiffened, his lips thinning in pain as he stifled a groan.

"You're hurt!" Kitty tried to get up, and got her feet tangled in the torn and filthy hospital gown. It was never meant to stand much wear, and it was falling to pieces now. Kitty ripped it off impatiently, and crossed to Scott. He had his hand pressed to his side. She laid a hand on his, gently moving it away.

"Let me see." The wound looked painful. A bullet had clipped him, Kitty decided, after examining it gently. It had gashed his side below the ribs, tearing flesh, and Scott's movement seemed to have opened the wound again; it was leaking blood sluggishly. "Do we have any bandages or anything?" Kitty inquired.

Scott made an inarticulate sound. Worried, Kitty looked at him. His face was turned away, gazing off into the woods. She looked that way, but could make out nothing. "What is it?"

"You don't have any clothes on." Scott's voice was strained.

Kitty glanced down at herself. A sudden surge of merriment coursed through her, and she laughed a little.

"What?" Scott demanded.

Kitty composed herself with an effort. It was certainly amusing that now, while on the run from multiple enemies, a fate worse than death, and suffering a bleeding wound, that Scott should be concerned about her state of undress; but it would be poor form to tease him about it when he had just gone through so much to rescue her. Leaning back and reaching behind her, she retrieved the guard's coat that Scott had placed under her head for a pillow, and quickly put it on. It felt odd and scratchy over her bare skin, but the important thing was to make Scott more comfortable.

"Is that better?" Kitty asked when she'd finished buttoning up.

Scott looked back at her, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Yes. Thank you."

Kitty nodded. "Then… bandages?"

Scott shook his head slightly. "They were in the car… I'm sorry. Some rescue this is." His voice was bitter.

Kitty placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Scott. You got me out, and we are still free."

Scott gazed at her a moment, then nodded. "You're right. We should focus on the positive. Negative thinking will only harm us, especially now."

Kitty smiled a little as she detached his canteen from his belt. "It's so good to hear your voice again, Scott." Taking one of the cleaner strips from her ruined gown, she soaked it in water and began to carefully clean out the wound.

Scott gritted his teeth, but the pain wasn't too bad. Her small hands were gentle on his skin. The anonymity of his visor allowed him to study her face without fear of discovery. Kitty's eyes were intent and her face etched in lines of concentration as she cared for him. Scott felt a warm surge of affection and pride run through him, laced with anxiety and guilt. It was remarkable, how she had survived through her ordeal. Scott remembered how she had been when he first came to her, though. The people at Mark's had done horrible things to her, nearly broken her. He was the one who was responsible for her capture. He didn't deserve her regard, and certainly not her care.

Scott looked away. Kitty felt his muscles tense under her hands, and looked up at him. "Scott… what's wrong?"

The dark-haired man winced at her voice, and Kitty felt her stomach lurch with apprehension. "Oh… I'm so sorry, sir. I shouldn't call you that… I didn't think. I'm sorry, Mr. Summers." Kitty looked away and began to rip a longer strip from her gown distractedly. "It was just… how I thought of you, when I was… in there. And then you came, and I just… didn't think. I'm sorry."

Kitty froze as Scott's strong hand clasped her arm. "I don't care about that, Kitty. You call me whatever you want." In truth, he liked her calling him by his given name exceedingly. Kitty infused his name with such warmth and regard that it was music to his ears. It had been a long time since anyone had spoken to him that way. "I just…" his voice trailed off into uncertainty.

"What?" Kitty asked softly. When a minute went by and he did not respond, she laid her hand atop his on her arm. "Look Scott… don't blame yourself for any of this. For the longest time, I blamed myself. I couldn't help thinking, at first, that if I had only been quicker to respond, none of this would've happened… but everything is clearer in hindsight. Perhaps, given the knowledge of what was to come, you would have made different choices. Perhaps not. But it doesn't matter. You did your best, and you came for me. Hey.. look at me."

Scott was still stubbornly looking away from her. With a boldness that she had never before possessed, Kitty reached up and turned his head so his visor was trained directly on her. "I need you, Scott. I need you without guilt or regret. You are the only one who can get us out of here. If I had the world to choose from, I would not pick another protector." Kitty paused and smiled a bit. "Besides, Jean will be waiting for you. You wouldn't want to disappoint her, would you?"

Scott contained another flinch of pain. Telling Kitty of his break-up with Jean would be worse than pointless, right now. Kitty would probably feel guilty that she had driven them apart, though Scott knew that the fault was none of hers. Best to wait for complicated explanations until they were back in safety. Tightly controlling his emotions, Scott smiled at his young charge. "You're right, Kitty. I'm sorry."

Kitty took her hand away from his face and smiled at him again before returning to treating his wound. Scott said nothing more for a minute, absorbed in pondering their situation. "Kitty?" he said at last. "Do you have any idea as to what their response will be to your escape? We'll be facing pursuit, of that I don't doubt, but do you know what kind of a value they attach to you? And what forces they can mobilize to track us down?"

Kitty was silent for a minute as she finished tying his bandage. When she spoke, her eyes were averted. "I was designated Alpha priority, along with Omega. They considered us their most important acquisitions. I don't know how many men they have, but… they'll send everything after us."

Scott blinked in surprise, the gesture hidden by his visor. "Alpha?" He could not for the life of him figure out why they would value her so highly. Her gift was useful, certainly, but was more defensive in nature, rather than aggressive. He would never underestimate Kitty himself; she was his most brilliant student, able to accomplish anything she set her mind to, but he knew the criteria her captors would be judging her from would be solely focused on her mutation. "Do you know why?"

Kitty's hands fell away from his side. "They thought I would be the perfect assassin." Her voice was small and sad. "No security system built can stop me. They were training my mutation to be auto-reactive, so that I'd be immune to bullets, explosions, or other high velocity dangers. They also taught me to utilize my gift in hand-to-hand combat, to evade my enemies attacks and phase through their defenses completely. Omega was the only other… 'subject' who could defeat me… sometimes."

Scott nodded slowly, torn between wonder and horror. If what she was saying was true, and he did not doubt her, then she would be a deadly fighter indeed. "I… see. Who is this Omega?"

Kitty shrugged. "Another mutant, a man. Tall, brown-haired… in much worse shape than me."

"How so?"

Kitty sat down next to Scott and looked down. "He wouldn't stop fighting them. They tried a lot of things… starvation, beatings, sleep deprivation, electric shocks… and endless rounds in that horrible machine. It didn't matter. They let their guard down an instant, and he'd be at their throats again. He was very brave, and nice to me."

Scott watched her intently. "What happened to him?"

Kitty looked up at him, blinking away a tear. "I don't know. They took him away for a long time, and when he finally came back… everything that was _him_ was gone. He just acted like a machine, doing everything he was asked, and nothing else. I don't know what they did to him, but it was bad, Scott, very bad."

Scott nodded, reaching out to stoke her cheek in a gesture of comfort. "What are his powers?"

"He makes things explode. He touches them, they start glowing, and then they just… burst. The times he beat me, it was when he was able to keep his distance, while keeping up such a barrage of exploding objects on me that couldn't unphase. Then, when I ran out of air and had to materialize again, he'd have me."

"Who else? The mutants under their control, I mean. I need to know what we might come up against."

Kitty thought for a moment. "Two, other than Omega… I think. One they called Conduit, a woman. She converts sound into light somehow. The most efficient conversion they found was using music, so they fitted her with a headpiece almost like your visor in reverse. She can blind people, project a laser beam that slices through just about anything, create life-like holograms; they designated her Beta priority. She still needs external sources of sound to use her gift, and a certain amount of concentration to use the laser. But she is very dangerous, Scott. Her favorite tactic was ambush. She'd project some sort of hologram that would cause her target to freeze for a few seconds, and then blast them down with the laser."

Scott nodded, his thoughts whirling as he considered the tactical ramifications of the information.

"Her name was Alison." Scott turned his head sharply to look at Kitty, his heart wrenching at the sadness in her voice. "She told me before – before she lost herself. She was just – just a happy person, always moving, you know? She loved the light. They took her away, locked her up in the dark, with no sound… She didn't last very long." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Scott reached out and laid a hand on his student's shoulder, wishing he were better that this, wishing he knew how to comfort her, what to say. "We'll come back," he assured her. "When we get out of this. We'll try to help them, if we can. Hey – you found the strength to break free, to come with me, even after all that time. Maybe-"

Kitty cut him off fiercely. "No, Scott, you don't understand. You weren't in there. You don't know what they did to us." She rose and moved a few steps off, looking into the forest, chest heaving as she struggled with her emotions.

Gritting his teeth, Scott took the pain as he climbed to his feet, leaning back against the comforting bulk of the tree trunk. "Tell me, Kitty. I want to understand." When she didn't respond for a minute, he frowned and forced himself to soften his tone, lower his defenses. Much of his mind wanted to just leave this for now, concentrate on the mission, on getting them both out of here alive. The part of his mind that operated like a well-oiled machine just wanted facts, information on the opposition so that he could formulate the best plan possible for the situation.

His heart told him differently. It ached with sympathetic pain at what Kitty must have been through. It did want to understand, not for the mission, but because the young woman desperately needed to be understood. She needed someone to listen to her, to tell her that she was not at fault for what she'd been through. "Please, Kitty. Talk to me."

For another minute, she said nothing, and his heart sank. But then she began to speak softly, still looking away. "I'm no stronger than the others, Scott. It was Omega who was the strongest of us, because he never stopped fighting until they lobotomized him. I stopped – I stopped fighting. I did what they wanted. It took a long time – I think. But that wasn't because I was better. I was just luckier."

She turned to face him then, and he saw that she was crying, silently. "I came from a family that accepted who I was, who understood that I was still their daughter even though I could walk through walls. When I came to the school, I was accepted into a larger family, taken in and valued for what I was. All that love – it's the strongest force to fight what they did to us there. It shores up your identity, gives you something to lean on. I don't think the others had that luxury."

Kitty took a deep breath and wiped her face. "Once they realized what I was doing, that I'd fall back on memories of the school and those who loved me, they started to attack that, instead of just me. They'd destroy the memories, or poison them. They'd put me in the machine, and it would show friends and family telling you they hated you, despised you, that you were a failure. I kept on telling myself it wasn't real, couldn't be real, even though it sounded real. But they wouldn't let me sleep, just kept running it."

Her voice became almost clinical. "After the third day without sleep, the brain begins to shut down. You lose the filters which information passes through before it is stored in your brain. Everything just – just pours in. I couldn't hold on. They'd weaken my grip on my loved ones, person by person, and when I couldn't stand it anymore, when I dreaded the sight of the person because of the pain they brought, they'd oblige me by taking the memory away. I lost everything. I can't really remember my family anymore. I can remember a little about the school, the team, but not much."

She paused for a moment, and Scott spoke up. "What do you remember?"

Kitty bit her lip. "Um… there is a school I lived at, for mutants, I think… you were there, teaching and leading the X-Men. You're married to a beautiful doctor named Jean. The head of the school is a man called… Xavier?" She looked and Scott questioningly, and he nodded encouragingly. "There was a boy who made ice, and a woman with white hair… Ororo, I think her name was." She hesitated. "The people there… Scott, did they like me at all? I remember thinking they liked me before, but I don't know."

Scott was shocked. He had not realized the damage had gone this deep, and cursed himself for not realizing, considering how long they'd had her. When he did not respond right away, Kitty hastened to fill the silence. "I know – I know I'm nothing special. I don't mean to presume. But… I lived there right? No-one kicked me out. So they must have liked me a little, or maybe I was useful. Did I help out at all? Was I good at anything? I mean, other than – you know, killing people." She said the last part in a whisper so sad it was heart-breaking.

Scott took a step forward and grabbed one of her hands in both of his. Kitty flinched a little, but did not pull away. "Kitty, they lied to you, about all of it. You are a wonderful, special person. You were my best student, very smart, very imaginative. You would help me out in the math classes, tutoring the students who struggled with the subject. You were always very kind and patient. I knew I could rely on you."

"Everyone loved you. Even Wolverine, and he's not the most emotional guy. You somehow talked him into giving you those special martial arts classes, and I still have no idea how. When you graduated, you were unanimously voted onto the team. Not so much for your power, but again, because everyone knew that, in difficult situations, we could rely on you to keep a level head and do the right thing."

"You were the one who somehow managed to reach Rogue after the incident with Bobby being impersonated by Mystique and Wolverine's near-death at her hands. She'd lock herself away in her room, frightened of being with the others, but you would have none of that. You got close to her, helped her through it, and got her laughing and living again. That's the reason why I chose you for that last mission, Kitty. I knew that however withdrawn the boy we were going after was, you'd manage to connect with him, let him know that we were good people."

Seeing her begin to cry again, Scott gave into his instincts and pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair. After a few minutes, she quieted a little, and he decided to hazard the question that was weighing on his mind. "Kitty, I don't quite know how to ask this, but… if they took everything from me, why did you remember me? Why did you come with me?" To tell the truth, he dreaded the answer. He was sure that she remembered him as the man who had gotten her into captivity, who had failed to protect her, who had taken a year to find her. Surely, in the year of punishment, she must have developed a great deal of anger and resentment towards him, even if it was masked by relief right now.

He felt a soft breath sigh out onto his shoulder, and it took a moment before she replied, her voice muffled slightly by his chest. "They couldn't take you away. I – I'm not sure why. I guess I never really could believe, no matter how much they tried to convince me, that you would ever hurt me. That made them really angry. Eventually, they sent in a man who looked just like you and he beat me, telling me how much me hated me. He told me about how I messed up the mission, put him in danger. He told me about how the building collapsed on Storm when she tried to rescue me, and he said that everyone despised me for that. It was because of me that she died, and she should've just left me…" She trailed off in tears again.

Scott's blood ran cold, and he hugged her even tighter. "Not true, sweetheart. Ororo is still alive, she's fine. I don't hate you. And I'd never, never hurt you."

Kitty pulled away a little and gave him a watery smile. "I know. Somehow I knew it wasn't you. I did what they said after that, because I couldn't take it anymore, but I knew you cared for me. Everything faded away, but I remembered you. The way you talked on a mission, all business. The way you taught, confidant and even. The way you looked after all of us. I knew you'd come for me. And you did."

Scott smiled tightly at her, still thinking of what St. Mark's had done to her in his name. No wonder she flinched away from him when he first woke her. "You said there would be one more?"

Kitty nodded a little and looked away, composing herself. "Another woman who they called Blade. She's a telepath, not as powerful as the Professor, but very combat focused. She's English, and worked as a mercenary before they caught her. They use her to co-ordinate the team telepathically. She can do the usual things a telepath can, and has a technique like a mental blade which she uses to kill people at short range."

Scott swore softly. "A telepath. I was hoping we'd only have to contend with dogs." As far as he could see, their chances had just gone from slim to none, but he didn't tell Kitty that.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I totally own the X-Men. Oh, wait. No I don't. Just a small mental lapse... wishful thinking.

Nightblaze, thanks for letting me know you're enjoying the story. I hope it continues to please.

* * *

Later, Scott had subsided into an uneasy slumber while Kitty stayed on lookout. He desperately needed the rest, but she'd had to argue with him to make him take it. He had been convinced that he should stay up, on the watch for potential dangers, and had only grudgingly acquiesced when she had pointed out he'd quickly lose his fighting edge if he got no rest. Come night, they'd need to move fast and far. The Institute was way out in the backwoods of nowhere Montana, and it would be quite a trek before they reached civilization again, especially since they needed to avoid roads.

He'd taken off the visor to sleep, and Kitty was shocked at how young and vulnerable he looked under the plastic and quartz. It drove home to her what she seldom considered; that he was really not much older than her. She was twenty, now, if it really had been a year that they held her, like Scott said. It seemed longer than that. And he was only six years her senior.

His whole life seemed to belie his age. He was head on the team, entrusted by Xavier to lead the X-Men through every sort of dangerous situation, and he discharged his duties with discipline and intelligence. He was a lethal warrior, both with his gift and otherwise. He taught the students at the school with skill and fairness. And he was married to a woman nearly a decade older than him. That perhaps more than anything else served to disguise his age. He was definitely not the junior in the relationship, and possessing the respect and love of a strong, confidant, smart woman like Jean said worlds about his maturity.

He was also feared by his enemies. Kitty hadn't told Scott yet, but the mutant team the Institute had put together had received specific training on how to combat the X-Men for the inevitable time when they would face them in battle. Not only was Cyclops listed as Alpha priority, but also as Target A in any mission he was encountered on. The X-Men had been ranked alphabetically in the order they should be terminated if encounter in the field of battle, and Scott, being the visible head of the X-men, had was regarded as the most dangerous. The Dogs of War, as the Institute called them, were supposed to drop everything and work in tandem to eliminate Cyclops if he appeared. Cut off the body, and the head dies. The number crunchers at the Institute had estimated the battle effectiveness of the team would decrease by 55 – 70% with him out of the picture.

Looking at him in repose now, Kitty wondered how many people saw him as just a man. He was always in some role or other: team leader, teacher, mentor, emotional support, warrior… how many people looked past that to who he really was underneath? Jean must, or he never would've married her. She was sure of that. The Professor, perhaps, but he also depended on Scott a great deal, more than any other X-man, and that must be a heavy burden. The only other one she could think of was Wolverine. From what she could remember of him, in her slowly returning but still muddled memories, he was always giving Scott grief of one kind or another. Sometimes this was because of the rivalry between the two men, and Wolverine's attraction to Jean, but more often Kitty thought it was actually friendly, and denoted the respect between the two men. The Canadian knew that Scott could take the abuse he dished out and return it in kind, and so the two men really enjoyed the frequent verbal sparring matches.

Watching over him, Kitty was able to admit to herself the truth. She knew why they hadn't been able to make her forget Scott, why she was believed in every fiber of her being that he wouldn't intentionally harm her. She was in love with him.

It had taken a while for her to understand that. She knew she loved him back at the mansion, but she had thought it more familial love, not romantic. She knew he was deeply in love with Jean, and she did not want to replace or supplant the doctor in his affections. She had enjoyed spending time with him, treasured every time he favored her with his open, boyish smiles. But as the scientists at the Institute had worked her over, as they stripped friends and family away from her damaged mind with ruthless tactics, she began to see there was a difference, on a deep level, from how she felt about Scott to her emotions for the rest of the loved ones in her life. They took everything away but him, and she started to understand that he was the one person she could not imagine living her life without.

In the sleep periods, or moments of respite between training and conditioning, Kitty would think of him, opening the secret corner of her mind and replaying the fragmented memories there, broken and stained, but still hers. She'd remember the picnic by the lake, how, during unpacking, they both reached for the same container at once, and their hands met. Her eyes had risen, startled, to meet his crimson glasses, and they'd smiled at the same instant. There was the conversation they'd had late one night, when he'd wandered into the kitchen in search of food after grading papers, and found Kitty there scrounging for edibles to sustain her as she worked on her ten-page English essay. She didn't quite remember what they'd talked about, but she knew it had been for a while, both of them ending up eating there as they conversed, completely engrossed in the give and take.

She remembered a lot of conversations with Scott. If she remembered correctly, he was one of the few people who really seemed to understand her and treated her like an adult, not only respecting but showing a genuine interest in her opinions. He an incredible man, and she hoped that Jean took good care of him and thanked her lucky stars every day that she held his heart.

In the worst times, when she couldn't remember anything else through the drugs and the pain, she just remembered his face, the way he'd looked at her before the mission, and the words he'd said. _I won't let anything happen to you_. Words that meant he'd do anything in his power to keep her safe, and solemn and binding as any oath. She never doubted that he was searching for her, and that knowledge carried her through the worst of time, as she told herself again and again that she didn't have to hang on forever, just long enough for Scott to get to her. And he had.

He was her savior, her best friend, the man she loved without reserve. The man who would never love her back. And he must never, never know how she felt. It might damage their friendship, put distance between them, and she could not bear the thought of that. No, she'd take whatever she could get, and be happy with that. It was enough. It had to be.

As the sun set, she touched him gently on the shoulder, and he jerked into instant wakefulness. For a moment, he kept his eyes tight shut, no doubt a habit ingrained in himself through long-time necessity. Then he opened them cautiously, looking first away from her, then seeking her eyes almost hesitantly. She realized that without the glasses, he must feel almost naked. She smiled reassuringly at him. "The light's fading," she said quietly. "You said to wake you."

"Thanks." He got up carefully, wincing in pain.

"There was a powerbar in one of the coat pockets," she told him, opening the silvery packet in her hand. "I figured we should split it."

Scott took the half-piece she gave him. "Take small bites, and chew as much as you can," he told her softly. "It'll fool your stomach into thinking it's more food than it really is."

Kitty nodded. Although her stomach was throbbing with shooting pains from hunger, she held herself back and followed his instructions. When they had finished their small meal, she did feel better. The pain retreated, and her head felt clearer.

"Ready?" Scott asked. Seeing the hesitancy in her eyes, he spared her one of his warm smiles. "Come on. I'll high 'em high, you hit 'em low. OK?" When she nodded, he beckoned her to follow as he peered out the edge of the copse. "That's my girl. Let's go."

A day later, they were run to ground. It had been a magnificent attempt, with Scott trying every trick in the book, and some that weren't, to throw off his pursuers. But in the end, the foxes had been cornered. The two X-Men crouched behind a large boulder in a tumble of huge rocks, winded and light-headed from hunger, and heard the sounds of their pursuers not far off. Scott grimaced as he felt the familiar prickle of telepathic contact run across his mind. Blade had kept pace with them every step of the way. She was good, he had to admit. Despite his efforts to blur his mind and fudge the connection, she had been narrowing down on them, closer and closer. It wouldn't be long now.

Kitty was beside him, keeping a wary look-out despite her exhaustion. Somewhere in their flight, Scott had moved beyond admiration for his former student. Now… he didn't know what he felt. It was like she was his partner. She watched his back, moved quiet as a shadow, and never gave up. He never had to worry about her doing something foolish; she obeyed his instructions quickly and efficiently.

Honestly, the only drawback was the distraction she posed, and this was in no way her fault. She still wore the guard's coat, but it was hardly ideal covering, and a great amount of pale skin was revealed to his gaze. She had been in good shape when she had been part of X-team, but now she was beyond even that, her physical skills honed to perfection by her pitiless captors. Every muscle in her body was taunt and firm, and there was not an extra ounce of flesh anywhere in her lithe frame. She moved as gracefully as a dancer, always balanced, always sure. Sometimes, it was hard to keep his eyes off her, and he was glad of the glasses, for they disguised his wandering gaze.

He tried imagining himself in this situation with Jean, and didn't like the picture. Jean wouldn't have listened to him, obeyed his commands. She would've had her own ideas about how best to escape, and argued for them, wasting precious time. She wouldn't have been able to keep pace with him, either. Jean was so wrapped up in her telekinetic and telepathic abilities that she quite neglected the physical aspects of fighting and survival, a trait that irked him. But it wasn't just what she would've said or did that was different. Every minute he was with her, Kitty gave him her full, unquestioning support. She trusted him completely, on such a deep level it showed through in everything she did. Jean… well, Jean never had, he supposed. He'd hadn't really known that before now.

"They've got us ringed," Scott said grimly. He ran a hand over his face, feeling stubble rasping against his palm. "I'm sorry, Kitty. This is some rescue."

The young woman touched his arm. "You did everything that you could, Scott."

"It wasn't enough." Frustration tinged his voice. "I was so damn stupid to assume that our powers would be back after we got away from the MSD."

"Hindsight's 20/20." Kitty laughed softly. "I should have told you, but I was still so drugged that-"

Scott heard a soft click to the right and shoved her down, throwing himself in the opposite direction, hitting the ground hard but rolling with the impact as the heavy stutter of an AK-47 on full automatic broke the stillness of the wilderness. Bullets whined and sparked off the stones. "Cover!" he yelled, and threw himself flat behind the nearest rock.

The gunfire petered out, and he sprang into action. Grabbing a rock from the rubble, he pulled his pistol from its shoulder holster and flung the rock out from one side of his cover. Spinning out from behind the sheltering stone on the other side, he took the guards down with two shots to each in the center body mass, as the two men trained their rifles instinctively on the clatter made by his diversion.

Scott immediately went to check on Kitty, his heart ice-cold in his chest. He hadn't seen or heard anything from her since the shooting started. Rounding the remains of a gargantuan boulder, split down the middle as if it had been struck by the hammer of some ancient deity of titanic proportions, he saw her. She was lying still, crumpled on the ground like a doll that had been carelessly thrown aside. Her side was a red ruin of torn flesh, and blood slowly stained the earth. He felt as if his heart had slammed into a brick wall.

"No," he whispered, and started forward. _She can't be dead, not now, please…_

It was his unrelenting attention to detail that saved him. The smallest flicker, as a part of Kitty's body that didn't quite sync with the landscape reshaped to accommodate the unyielding earth. _Conduit!_ He began to turn, shifting his balance to drop and roll. Because of his movement the bolt of light hit him on the shoulder, burning past the clothing to sear into his flesh, instead of lancing into his heart. Still, he was flung violently to the ground, the breath smashed from his lungs, black spots dancing before his eyes. Footsteps approached rapidly, something heavy crashed into his head, and he knew no more.

Scott came awake abruptly, a harsh chemical smell assaulting his nostrils. He jerked his head back violently, and heard harsh laughter as a small phial was taken away from his face. Opening his eyes, he squinted against harsh lighting, the stabbing pain in his eyes a counterpoint to the throbbing ache in his head.

Several guards stood unobtrusively around the lab, faces impassive, hands tight on their automatic weapons. He was tied down to an operating table, hands and feet firmly secured with leather straps. He tested them, as a matter of course, but there was no give in them. Two men and a woman stood before him. The men wore lab coats, and the woman was dressed in a dark uniform. That, coupled with her blank, dead eyes, led Scott to the conclusion that she was one of the mutants under the Institute's control. Since there was no sign of a 'reverse visor' such as Kitty had described, he deduced she must be the telepath, Blade. _Wonderful._

"So, Mr. Summers, you have decided to join us." The speaker was the man in the middle, a tall, gaunt, hollow-cheeked individual with bright eyes, dressed in a rumpled suit overlaid with a lab coat. "Excellent. I had expected, Mr. Summers, to have a more difficult time acquiring you."

"Sorry to disappoint." Scott coughed hard, overcome by the spasm for a minute, resisting the urge to retch. His body wanted to rid itself of the drugs that had been pumped into it, but now was not the time. Once the attack passed, he straightened himself as much as possible. "Let me go again, and I'll give you a run for your money."

The man absent-mindedly adjusted his collar. "No, I think not… I think not. We've already lost enough men containing you. And since our recruiting is, by necessity, circumspect, it will take long enough to replace them."

"I feel for you," Scott said dryly.

"Quite all right, my dear boy." The man waved to his associate, and the other man, light glinting off the dark skin of his bald head, leaned in with a needle and injected its contents into Scott's arm. He felt a wave of dizziness wash through him. "You see, you are a fortunate find in many ways. First, a person with your talents and abilities, quite apart from your powers, will be invaluable to us in leading the Dogs of War into battle. Second, you will be able to tell us exactly how to attack that mansion of yours. Doubtless you were the one in charge of setting up their security systems, and you will tell us how to circumvent them. When we come at them, they'll never know what hit them."

"I will tell you nothing!" Scott shot back.

The tall man laughed, and leaned in to run a hand through his captive's hair, the mockery of a comforting gesture. "You are all so alike. That's just what the other one said, when we brought her in a year ago. But we broke her, and she told us everything. We will break you."

Scott closed his eyes as another wave of dizziness hit him, and heard the other man speaking faintly, as if from a far way off. "Doctor Andras, are you certain about this? We could still use the tried and true way. That is the course of action I would urge in the strongest terms. We know the machines work. In the course of our operations, we've had only one failure. But this…"

"Sometimes," Andras replied confidently, "one must take a bold step forward in order to capitalize on an enemies mistake, Ekene. The machines take too long, especially with the older subjects, who have had more time to develop a strong sense of identity. Blade here will break his defenses down in a fraction of the time. Aided by the effect of the drugs on his psyche, he ought to be malleable to our purposes in a week, at most."

"Perhaps you're right, Doctor. She is… quite effective."

Scott felt hands touch his face, and opened his eyes. Though his vision was blurred, he could see it was Blade bending over him, hands clasped on either side of his head. He braced himself. Then everything was pain.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: The X-Men are the property of people at whose feet I sit and Marvel. They ain't mine, not nohow.

Ok, so trying to write Gambit's accent is a nightmare. It looks really great seeing it, but doing it myself turned out to be impossible. So I've preserved his speech patterns and you'll have to fill in the rest yourself. Sorry.

Hope you're enjoying the story, folks. :)

* * *

Kitty jolted back into consciousness as someone slapped her across the face hard, snapping her head to the side. The force of the blow had caused her to bite her tongue, and she tasted blood in her mouth. The room danced before her unfocused eyes for a few moment before stabilizing. She could not contain her flinch when she realized she was in one of the Institute's interrogation rooms, tied up on the circular device used for questioning. Each arm and leg was tied separately, stretched out equidistant from each other. She smiled as a strange thought struck her mind; her body was, right now, in a posture that was a grotesque parody of an X.

"She thinks it's funny!" a harsh voice grated out, anger seething just under the surface. "We lost friends, *****! Is this funny?!" a fist crashed into her stomach, sending waves of pain through her. Kitty tried to curl up, but her bonds held her fixed in place. She coughed violently, then groaned as another blow landed, and another.

It was two of the guards who were beating her, the young woman realized, mind working even though her body was wracked with pain. If the doctors found out, they would certainly be punished. The mutants were too precious to damage permanently. But these men seemed enraged beyond reason.

After a time, after all rational thought had fled, she realized the beating had halted. One of the men had pulled the other off of her, and they were arguing.

"Come on, man! You know what our lives will be worth if we kill her! They'll skin us alive, man!"

"**** you! She's the reason Trevor and Mitch are dead!" the other one yelled. "She needs to bleed for that!

"She's bleeding already!"

"I want her dead!" the second shot back, un-holstering his pistol.

"Will you ******* cool it! Look, man, we can't do that. You know I'd like nothing more than to throttle the life out of her with my bare hands. But we can't let her get us, too. If we do her, she's as good as killed us. Don't give her the satisfaction, bro."

The second man snarled inarticulately, but jammed his weapon back in its holster. "****!"

"She'll get what's coming to her," the first man continued. "Andras will make her wish she was never born, man."

Kitty saw the second man begin to nod, and then the door opened and another guard came in, moving fast. The first guard looked over. "Hey, Lamont! What're you-"

Lamont drew his pistol in a blur, and as the other two were still staring in shock, opened fire. The second man went down hard, one shot catching him dead center and the next clipping his shoulder and spinning him around as he fell. The first man went for his gun, but only got it halfway out before Lamont shifted targets and put a bullet between his eyes. The man was dead instantly, but it took his body a few seconds to figure it out. His finger clenched in the trigger in a last reflex as his pistol came up, spitting fire. Lamont spun and crashed back into the door as a shot impacted with his side.

Then everything was quiet. Kitty tried to stay focused, but it was hard. She must have broken ribs, at least; she could only hope that none of them hand pierced her lungs. Her vision would not hold steady, it kept drifting to one side or the other, or fading out altogether for brief moments that seemed like eternities. She felt something touch the binding on her right wrist, and turned her head to see the guard who had killed the others removing the leather strap.

"W – why are you – _ah_ – doing this?" Kitty got out, almost blacking out as he worked to bring her down.

"Shut up. It doesn't matter." Lamont removed the last bond on her foot, and then caught her as she fell forward. "You're going to have to walk, Pryde. I can't carry you out of here."

"Scott," Kitty slurred urgently, forcing her bloody mouth to cooperate. "We have to get Scott."

But Lamont shook his head. "Forget about your boyfriend, Pryde. He's not getting out of here. They've got him locked up with Blade. A few hours with her, and he'll be happy to blow your head off for them. Even if he's still himself, which is really unlikely, there's no way we can get down there. Security's too tight. We might make it out – _might_ – if we go now. We try to be heroes, we both wind up dead."

Kitty wanted to ask again why he'd rescued her if he didn't want to be a hero, but decided not to antagonize him. "There's… a way. If you can get me to the… device. I can reverse the flow. Give Scott and I our powers back. They won't be able to stop us."

Lamont shook his head violently. "That's crazy! We go up there, it'll be committing virtual suicide. Didn't I just tell you about security? They're way past paranoid, at this point. We won't make it past the second level."

Kitty doubled over, coughing violently, blood leaking from her mouth to the floor. When the attack had passed, she straightened up as much as she could and looked him in the eye. "You know as well as I do, I won't make it out alive like this. And I'll slow you down, and you'll die too. This is the only way."

Lamont just stared at her for a moment, then laughed silently, looking away. "Yeah, you're right. What does it matter, anyway? We're dead either way."

"Matters… that you tried," Kitty told him, touching his arm.

"Yeah, stow it," Lamont said gruffly. "Come on, we need to move fast." Getting up, he gritted his teeth, the wound in his side obviously painful.

Despite Lamont's pessimistic estimation, they made it to the third floor without meeting opposition. They took the stairwell, Lamont helping her up the steps one at a time. At the third landing, he slipped out first, leaving her leaning against the wall. When he came back to get her, he was limping. As they exited the stairs, Kitty saw two men in black uniforms crumpled on either side of the door, blood pooling under their bodies. "Wait," she told him, and reached down to take one of their guns.

"You know how to use that?"

She checked the clip and clicked the safety off. "Yes," she replied simply.

Lamont paused as they reached a cross-section, peering down the hall to the right. "This is where it gets difficult," he muttered. "Two guards at the door. More inside, I don't know how many. And more nearby, ready to come if needed. Also techs running the machine… armed techs." He looked back at her. "Translation: we're dead."

Kitty closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath, which only touched off another coughing fit. She fought to keep herself silent, a hand over her mouth. Afterwards, she wiped the blood off her hand onto the wall. "We need to consider this one step at a time. We can take down the guards at the door; you take the left, I take the right."

"And at that point, they'll be waiting for us inside. If we go in, we get shot. If we stay put, they'll call for backup, and then catch us between two lines of fire."

Kitty frowned. _What would Scott do?_ She thought back, and suddenly a memory flashed into her mind; Cyclops lecturing his class in Strategy and Battlefield Tactics.

"_Battle is about perceptions and psychology. You need to get inside the mind of your opponent. Figure out what they expect, and how they'll react to it. Then give them something different. If you catch your enemy off guard, nine times out of ten, they will freeze for a second, as their minds try and catch up with things not going as they had anticipated. And that is all you will need."_

And more recently "_I'll hit 'em high, you hit 'em low, OK?_"

She looked up at Lamont. "I know what we need to do."

A minute later, Lamont stepped around the corner, gun raised, and opened fire as soon as his weapon cleared the wall. One of the guards went down, and the other returned fire as Lamont ducked back behind the corner. Seeing a hint of motion a moment later, as if his assailant was moving around the corner again, the guard opened fire at head height, seeking to end the stand-off quickly. He was caught completely by surprise when Kitty slid out from the wall's cover on her side along the ground, firing as she came. He went down before he had a chance to adjust his aim.

"_Now, Lamont!_"

Lamont ran out at a dead sprint, scooping up one of the fallen guard's headsets. Flicking it on, he spoke urgently into the mike. "We're under fire! Man down! Man down! Get out here now, we need backup ASAP!" He fired another couple of shots off into the air over Kitty's head. "Now goddamnit, now!"

Then, tossing the headset to the side, he picked up one of the guard's pistols, keeping his own in the other hand. Yanking the doors open, he ran inside, roaring at the top of his lungs.

Kitty crawled towards the doors as a series of staccato shots rang from inside, followed, after a moment, by the stutter of automatic weapons. By the time she'd reached the doors, there was only silence. She gripped her weapon tightly, ready for anything.

Lamont stepped out after a moment, tossing his pistols aside. Holding up a hand in front of his face, he watched it for a second as it shook violently. "Didn't even clip me," he said, and then his voice broke and he fell back against the doorjamb, trembling in every limb. He was going into shock.

Raising her gun, Kitty steeled herself, then discharged it into one of the bodies. Lamont started and looked at her, some of the mindless panic gone from his eyes. "You need to get me in there, Lamont."

He helped her up and took her inside, still unsteady. She ignored the bodies strewn about the room. Making him push the body of one of the tech out of the rolling chair in front of the main control screens, she eased herself into it with a pained groan. "Guard the door," she gasped to him. "Just keep them back for a few minutes." He touched her on the shoulder and left.

This, she knew. This, she was good at. Kitty immersed herself in the flow of information, coaxing the program to give up its secrets. Thankfully, it was already logged in, which meant she didn't have to fight past the initial layer of security. But once she figured out where the controls to operate the machine were, and requested an override to flood the area with radiation that would reactivate suppressed mutations, she hit a snag. Any override required supervisor clearance. She pushed past the insistent pain in her body as she worked on convincing the computer she was a supervisor.

Shots rang out at the door, and were returned. Kitty gritted her teeth, focused totally on her task. She could do this, she needed to do this. This was her game, and nobody beat her at her game.

And there… there it was. She hit the request again, slipped past the safety, and hammered home the command. A short tone sounded, letting her know her command had been carried out. A strange sensation flooded through her body, and a violent headache flared into life and then died again just as quickly.

Lowering her arm, Kitty phased it through the arm of the chair.

More shots rang out, and Lamont screamed. Kitty whirled the chair around and saw him fall back, clothing ripped and dark with blood. Boot heels thudded hard outside, and guard appeared at the door. They opened fire immediately.

Kitty smiled a little as the bullets passed through her, inundating the computer systems, destroying them as thoroughly as she could have wished. Getting up slowly, she began to fire as she walked towards them, unhurried, taking her time with each shot. The last two broke and fled, and she knelt down by Lamont.

He was fading fast. His pulse was thready, and his chest rose and fell weakly, a struggle that would soon end in defeat. His eyes fluttered open as he felt her hands touch his face. They stared off into space for a moment, then seemed to focus on her face.

"Shasta? I didn't think you come, little sister." He tried to raise his hand, but was too weak. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His voice grew fainter. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have – have driven you off. I should've been… there for… you."

Kitty stroked his cheek, her throat choked. A tear ran down her cheek.

"Don't cry," Lamont whispered. "You know… I… never stopped… loving y-" He fell silent, and a few seconds later, his chest stopped moving.

She closed his eyes, then scrubbed a hand across her face to wipe away the tears and struggled to her feet. She needed to get to Scott. But as she left the room, something small shot straight at her, passing through to impact one of the doors and explode. Phasing through the explosion, she ducked and rolled, crying out at the sharp pain in her side. She caught a glimpse of a tall, brown-haired man at the end of the hall before she had to throw herself aside again, narrowly evading another glowing, three-cornered throwing star. It was Omega.

She knew what she had to do. She just prayed she was fast enough.

Getting to her feet, she sprinted towards her adversary, ignoring the steady stream of shuriken he sent whizzing through her. She needed to reach him before she ran out of air; he was giving her no opportunity to unphase. Lungs screaming, she flung herself forward as Omega dodged to the side smoothly… but not quite fast enough, as one out-stretched hand made contact with his head… and passed straight through.

Kitty hit the ground hard and painfully, the breath completely knocked out of her. Closing her eyes, she waited to die.

After a minute, she heard a familiar, accented voice. "Kitty?"

Rolling over, she saw Omega looking down at her… but his red eyes were alive once again. "Remy!"

"Chere, what did you do to this thief? I felt… something strange in my head, and then… it stopped. Whatever they put in there to force me to do what they wanted… it just stopped."

Kitty smiled a little, reaching up a hand so that he could help pull her to her feet. "My mutation," she began, and then gritted her teeth until she was on her feet. "I disrupt electrical systems when I pass through them. I was gambling that I'd short out whatever they'd put in your brain."

Remy grinned. "Lady Luck, she still have a soft spot in her heart for Remy."

"Scott's here. They put him in with Blade. We need to get to him quickly."

"Then let's not waste time, chere."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I don't own any of the X-Men or the Marvel Universe. Not even a bit of Sabertooth's toenail, and you'd think not many people would want to lay claim to that. But, not mine. *sigh*

Also, Robert Frost's totally awesome poetry is not mine either. Otherwise I would be world famous, and probably not writing fanfiction.

Thanks to everyone's who's reviewed. I thrive on feedback. :)

* * *

Scott was falling through blackness, pursued by a monster. Everything he tried to grasp onto withered and crumbled beneath his touch. He reached for absolutes, and felt them twisted from his grasp.

_I am Scott Summers. I am the leader of the X-Men. I am a good man._

_I am Scott Summers. I am the leader of the Dogs of War. I obey my superiors._

The echo voice… it sounded like, him, but he knew it wasn't. Blade was following him closely, changing everything he held dear, altering his identity. If she succeeded, Scott knew he would gladly give Andras and his colleagues everything they wanted, and more.

_I fight for what is right. I defend the innocent._

_A few lives taken can save many more. Rogue mutants are time bombs waiting to explode. I must protect the innocent and bring all the mutants safely under control._

_I am loyal to Professor Xavier. He made me what I am. I believe in his dream._

_Professor Xavier used me and then cast me aside. All of the X-Men turned on me, no-one helped me. I deal in reality, not dreams._

_Jean…_

_Jean hates me. She betrayed me. She should pay for that._

_Kitty, I have to save Kitty…_

_I am the reason Kitty is so hurt. If I'd left her in the expert care of the doctors, she would be fine. Instead, I nearly got her killed. She'll hate me as well, but for good reason._

_Kitty is so precious. I have to hold on for her._

_I will look after her by leading the Dogs of War to the best of my ability._

This was getting him nowhere. Worse, he felt his resolve slipping with every support Blade removed from his mind. A growing compulsion welled within him, telling him to just give himself over to Blade's capable hands, to let her remake him in a stronger image, take away all his doubts and worries. After all, it was inevitable. Why not give in now?

Reason had abandoned him, so Scott abandoned it. He fell back, seeking better ground. _Emotion… can she handle that?_ He called to mind words that spoke to the deepest part of his soul, words that had, ever since he first heard them, defined duty; the need to hold on, and push past personal boundaries to get the job he was tasked with completed.

_Whose woods these are I think I know.  
His house is in the village though;  
He will not see me stopping here  
To watch his woods fill up with snow._

_  
My little horse must think it queer  
To stop without a farmhouse near  
Between the woods and frozen lake  
The darkest evening of the year._

_  
He gives his harness bells a shake  
To ask if there is some mistake.  
The only other sound's the sweep  
Of easy wind and downy flake._

_  
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep._

_I will lead the Dogs of War, I want to-_

_I have promises to keep_

_The X-Men betrayed me, I owe them no loyalty-_

_Miles to go before I sleep_

_I led Kitty to her death-_

_Miles to go before I sleep_

Scott could almost feel the telepath grinding her teeth in rage. A blast of mental hatred smashed into his mind full-force, and everything dissolved into agony once again. But then, something changed… power flooded him, familiar and warm. He smiled. _Checkmate._

And, forcing himself through the drugs and the pain, he opened his eyes. He had a brief glimpse of Blade, her face contorted with fury, staring into his eyes; and then the familiar wash of energy sprang forth and smashed into her, and she was gone.

It took him a while to get out of his restraints, but he managed it eventually. Rising on unsteady legs, he made his way to the door. After exiting the room, he took a shaky breath as he considered his options. He needed to find Kitty… which probably meant taking another prisoner. Nothing for it, then.

He had nearly made it to the end of the hall when two people turned the corner and nearly collided with him. Scott nearly blasted them before he realized that one of them was Kitty. "Kitty!"

"Scott!" She looked into his eyes. "It's you. It's – it's really you. She didn't take you away." She touched his cheek, almost as if she were reassuring himself he was really here, then leaned up on tip-toes to kiss him.

Scott felt a shock run through him as their lips met. Kitty tasted light and sweet and _pure_, overlaid by the metallic taint of blood, and everything else seemed to melt away. There was only the sweet woman in his arms, one person who encompassed his whole world.

They were jolted rudely back into reality as Remy shoved them to the side. A beam of energy shot past their heads as they scrambled back around the corner, and then a brilliant flash of light that hazed their vision for a moment.

"Conduit," Kitty gasped. She was utterly mortified about what she'd just done. Kissing a married man! Or was he married? She couldn't quite remember that clearly. But she did know he was Jean's, and as soon as they were out of here, he was never going to want to look at her again…

Then she realized something else. "Scott! Your – your eyes! You mutation didn't come back?"

Scott smiled at her, and there was a fire in his eyes that she'd never seen before. "Au contraire." Rising smoothly to his feet, he stepped around the corner without any attempt to shield himself.

"Scott!" Kitty darted after him, Remy on her heels, hoping against hope that she'd get to him before Conduit released her laser. But the woman walking towards them was already cupping her hands, light gathering around them, until it lanced forth directly at Cyclops…

And smashed into the scarlet beams that issued from his eyes. Light met pure concussive force and they fought for dominance, splashing off each other, sending out splinters and streamers to smash into the walls, leaving them scorched and broken. Then one of Remy's shuriken flew past and ruptured the woman's headset in a burst of kinetic power, and Scott's beam forged ahead with no opposition. Kitty thought she heard Conduit start to scream before the jet of ruby force picked her up off her feet and hurled her backwards, to smash through the door behind her and far back into the room beyond.

The beam winked out, and Scott turned back to them grimly. He tapped the side of his head. "I don't know how, but I can control it, now. My guess would be that when my mutation restarted itself, it basically hit the reset button… my brain had a chance to repair whatever was damaged before that made it impossible for me to control the energy."

Kitty reached out and took his hand, awe-struck. He'd never have to wear the visor again.

Remy was looking at Conduit's fallen body, pain in his eyes. "We need to stop Andras. We cannot let him continue to do this to innocents."

Scott squeezed Kitty's hand and released it before he turned to Remy. "I concur. While I would prefer to leave here and return with more backup, the fact is he'd be long gone by the time we got back." He hesitated, then looked back at her. "Kitty, you don't have to come."

"That's Shadowcat to you, Cyclops," she shot back fiercely. "I'm part of the team; you lead, I follow. I've lived their nightmare for a year. No one else should have to. We need to end this."

"The man's office be on the seventh floor," Remy said grimly, fingering one of his shuriken. "Follow me."

They met several more groups of guards on the way up. The three mutants fighting in unison were a lethal team, and nothing lasted against them for long. Kitty would bounce down the hallways phasing through the walls and into the rooms beyond long enough to catch her breath before resuming her leapfrog advance. It was never certain that she'd get to her targets before the men had neutralized them. Scott's pinpoint accuracy coupled with Remy's exploding projectiles tended to make short work of the opposition.

They entered the office cautiously, ready for anything. Dr. Andras was sitting at his paper-strewn desk, facing towards them. He made no move as they entered, save a small quirk of the lips that might have been a smile. Scott felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was very wrong. His eyes flicked from side to side, assessing the situation, but there were no visible dangers.

"My wayward children," Andras greeted them tiredly. "You have made a mess of things, haven't you?"

Remy flipped a shuriken into the air and caught it again. "We be setting to rights all that you have inflicted on us," he gritted. "In this life, every man has a price to charge and a price to pay. Today, Doctor, your payment is due."

"Oh, it is my fault, really," Andras continued, ignoring the brown-haired mutant. "I should have had more safeguards, should've been more careful. Ekene was right. But my approach has always been more… theoretical. The beauty of the work carried me away. I'm only human… unlike you three."

"It is over," Scott said firmly. "You'll be coming with us, Andras. I think the authorities will be interested in hearing about what you've been up to. Kidnapping, torture, murder… I think you'll be going away for a long time."

Andras sighed. "No… no, I don't think so. My employers wish to keep this operation quiet, for now, until we are ready to unveil our work. The mistakes made here are my responsibility. Did you know in the old days, if a ship was sinking, the Captain would stay on board? He would be in command until the very end. That is my choice."

Suddenly, the door behind them slid to with a clang, and a high-pitched whining sounded for an instant before dropping away. Andras nodded. "This building will explode in five minutes. We put in the time lapse in order to allow significant personnel the time to reach one of the helicopters on the roof. As I have stated, however, I will be remaining. Best to die with honor. There are no exits from this room save for the door, which will not open without the code. The mistake ends here."

"Kitty-" Scott began.

"On it." Taking each of her comrades by the arm, she moved towards the door, slamming her head into the metal. Her head snapped back as she groaned in pain.

"Oh, sorry," Andras laughed. "Did I forget to tell you that there is a version of the MSD installed in the room? Unfortunately not the full scale model we had downstairs; the suppression is not permanent. But it will do. You will not be able to access your powers while in the room."

Scott caught Kitty as she stumbled back, stunned, and eased her to the floor. Remy touched her shoulder, then turned to the door. "You never were as smart as you though, Andras," he shot back over his shoulder as he began examining the walls around the edges of the doorway. "You think you can lock Gambit in a room? This thief, he still remembers his old tricks. The Thieves Guild Initiation was harder than this."

Andras shook his head. "You are wasting your time," he observed as Remy smashed in a portion of the wall and began to fiddle with something inside. "It is impossible to open that door. This is a top, military-level security system; it cannot be broken. I would advise you to die with some dignity, not scratching at the edges of your cage like rats in a trap."

"Scott," Kitty said quietly. "I'm so sorry I got you into this. If I had the choice, I'd stay locked up here forever rather than have you get hurt. I-"

He laid a finger on her lips. "Hush. No apologies. If these are the last minutes we will spend on this earth, we should not waste them with that."

She reached up and took his hand softly. "You are right. There's only one thing I want to say. I love you, Scott. I love you as my mentor, I love you as my friend, I love you as my savior; but most of all…" her voice failed her for a moment, and she took a deep breath before continuing, her heart hammering in her chest. "Most of all, I love you as a woman loves a man."

Scott seemed frozen, staring at her, and Kitty felt her heart sink, anticipating his rejection, however kind. Then his mouth softened into a smile, and his eyes were alight, gazing into hers with more intensity than anyone ever had before. "Katherine, dear heart. There is nowhere I'd rather be than here with you." He brought her hand to his mouth and pressed it to his lips.

There was a click from the door as the lock disengaged. "Done," Remy announced crisply. "We should go." He looked at the couple on the floor, raising one eyebrow. "Unless I'm interrupting something?"

Both rather red in the face, the two got to their feet. Kitty swayed a little, and Scott reached out a hand to support her. Remy turned the doorknob cautiously, then opened the door just a crack and leaned over quickly to peer outside. "All clear." He opened it fully.

"One last thing," Andras said from behind them. They turned back, Scott the most quickly, because there was something wrong about the Doctor's voice… so he was the first to see the pistol Andras had taken from beneath the desk. And there was no time, no time to call on his mutation, because Kitty was the closet, and the weapon was already in line; blasting Andras wouldn't stop him from pulling the trigger; no time to call out, no time to do anything but throw himself into Kitty as hard as he could, twisting as he went, shielding her with his body. Fire lanced across his side and back, and that was the end.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I don't own the X-Men. I am, however, assiduously watching e-bay to see if I can get a used one...

There are also Matrix in-jokes, and I don't own the Matrix, either. It is becoming clear I don't own much. ;)

This is it, folks. The real end. I hope you like it, RogueOnFire.

If you liked the story, let me know! Or if you didn't, tell me why. Thanks everyone for taking the time to read! :)

* * *

The Professor waited respectfully as Kitty wiped her eyes, struggling to compose herself. Frankly, it amazed him that she even still coherent after all had been through. It humbled and gladdened him to know he had such strong people working towards the dream; and it saddened him to think that their strength might be tested as brutally as that of the young woman before him.

"And Andras?" He inquired after a minute. "What became of him?"

"Remy got him," Kitty said softly, worn thin. "Two in the throat. Andras probably didn't even realize he was hit until he was dead. We got to the helicopter before the building went up… you know the rest." She paused. "Professor… is Scott going to be OK?"

"He is still in surgery," Xavier replied gently. "Jean and Hank are doing everything they can. We just… do not know yet, Katherine. But Scott is a strong man. I think he will pull through. In the meantime, all we can do is pray."

The young woman nodded slowly, her eyes distant. The Professor directed his wheelchair forward and laid a comforting hand on her arm. "You should get some rest. You've been through a lot."

"I'm going to go down to the medlab," Kitty replied quietly. "I need to be with him. If something happened, and I wasn't there… I couldn't bear it."

Xavier nodded, his eyes kind. "I understand."

Down in the medlab, Kitty waited outside the operating room. She was so tired she could barely think, and thoughts of Scott pushed everything else from her mind. All she could think was, that if she died, she didn't know what she'd do. She wondered if her heart would go on beating, if his stopped. She hoped not.

The door opened, and Jean came out, looking haggard and drawn, the strain showing around her eyes, but smiling. Kitty rose to her feet. "Is he…?"

Jean nodded. "Scott's going to be all right."

Kitty uttered a soft cry of relief, and hand flying to her mouth as tears gathered in her eyes. The tall doctor came up to her and drew her in for a hug. "Thank you, Kitty. Thank you for bringing him back to me. If you and your friend hadn't been so quick getting him here, Scott would've been gone, and I would've been lost."

Kitty returned the embrace mechanically. As soon as Jean released her, the younger woman stepped back. "I – I should go. I mean, to get some rest. I'm," she laughed slightly, "a little tired. I need to go."

Jean smiled fondly at her. "Of course, dear. You have a good night. I'll tell Scott you're here if he regains consciousness… but he probably won't be seeing anyone for a while, as he heals."

Kitty nodded and turned to go, feeling like death. What had she been thinking? That Scott was hers, simply because he had said a kind word as they were about to die? He had a beautiful, wonderful woman already in his life; one that could save his life, one that didn't put him in danger constantly. Kitty had almost gotten him killed repeatedly through her own stupidity.

How could she have ever thought he could choose her over Jean? On one hand, you have a tall, stunningly gorgeous woman, a confidant, intelligent partner whose business is saving lives. On the other, a short, mousy girl who is a walking liability, a girl who betrayed her teammates by breaking and giving aid and information to the enemy.

She needed to leave. There was nothing for her here, not anymore. No one could trust her, and honestly, she didn't trust herself. And Scott… it was wrong, but she knew she wouldn't be able to see him with Dr. Gray every day. Not after all they'd gone through together, not after thinking, if only for a minute, that he was hers.

"Goodbye, Scott. Be happy," she whispered to the air, and went to gather her belongings.

* * *

The first thing Scott saw, when he opened his eyes, was Jean's face, as she bent over him. He felt a stab of disappointment. He opened his mouth to ask where she was, and then gasped in agony as a bone-deep ache swept through him.

"Shhh… don't try and speak just yet. Hold on." Jean moved out of sight, and in a minute, the pain ebbed off. She returned, smiling. "There. That should feel better. I'm so glad to see you, Scott."

"Where's Kitty?" he managed, his voice weak.

"She's safe." Jean stroked his cheek, a move Scott would've evaded if he were more alert. "You succeeded, darling, even when we didn't believe in you. I am so sorry you had to rescue her alone."

He frowned. "I wasn't alone; she saved me. Where is she?"

"Always so modest. I've missed you so much, Scott. You look so handsome without those glasses. I've been wanting to tell you-"

"Tell me where Kitty is," Scott interrupted. "Was she here? What did you say to her?"

"Look, I'm trying to apologize here!" Jean exclaimed in an exasperated tone. "Just forget about her for a minute! What I've been trying to say is, that I was wrong. I didn't realize how much I depend on you until you were gone, Scott. I know you'll always be there for me, and I'm sorry I didn't see that before. But now you're back, and Kitty is safe and off finding herself or whatever it is she's doing, things can get back to normal."

She leaned into kiss him, but he turned his head. "Don't. You don't just get to take back everything you said, Jean. Our time apart made me realize something, too. It helped me understand that you never were there for me, in all the time we've been together. It was all about what you wanted, what you needed. It was never about me."

Jean stepped back. "I don't think you should be the one pointing fingers, Scott," she said harshly. "I wasn't the one who lied, the one who left in the middle of the night, abandoned all your responsibilities to the team, to _me_, to go haring off into the wilderness after a brainless twit who got herself in over her head. But I guess that honesty, and our trust in you, meant nothing."

Scott looked her straight in the eye. "When you first agreed to be with me, Jean, I thought I was the luckiest man alive. I didn't know what you saw in me. Now I can't figure out what I saw in you, and I can't believe I wasted years of my life on you, when I could have been with someone who loved me for something other than what I could give them." Taking a deep, careful breath, he pushed himself upright, and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"You're going to kill yourself, you know," Jean said clinically, as he got dressed stiffly. "Not that I mind, but some vestige of conscience compels me to inform you."

Scott thought of several sarcastic replies he could make to that, but in the end dismissed them all. She just wasn't important enough to waste anymore breath on. He left the lab without a word, heading to the higher levels. At the elevator, he ran into Hank.

"Scott!" The large, blue-furred mutant stared in surprise, adjusting his glasses as if he expected the man before him to be a passing optical illusion that could be dispelled with a minor adjustment of the lenses. "Ah, has Dr. Gray cleared you for ambulatory movement? In my medical opinion, you should have at least two days of complete bed rest before attempting such an endeavor."

Scott put out a hand and leaned against the wall. "I need to go, Hank. I need to find Kitty. Where is she? Jean said something about her leaving?"

Hank eyed him cautiously. "Yes, that is correct. A few hours after it was announced to her that you were out of danger, she departed for parts unknown with some of her effects. She left a note expressing her desire not to be followed. Is she still in danger?"

Scott closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. "No. But I must find her. I'll go talk to the Professor, get him to use Cerebro-"

"I am afraid that would be to no avail, my friend," Hank broke in regretfully. "Xavier already cast that net, and it came back empty. She seems to have perfected some technique of evading his telepathy with her gift. It's really quite fascinating." A note of enthusiasm entered his voice. "The way I understand it, she has somehow trained her ability to be auto-reactive to threats, and to her that must include the touch of a telepath's mind, however light. When Katherine 'phases' her molecular structure alters; this might either be a side-effect of her basic physical presence 'thinning' as it were, to allow her to slide between the component building blocks of nature, or alternatively, it might be a matter of an alteration of her vibrational signature-"

"I need to speak with the Professor," Scott sighed, and entered the elevator.

Hank frowned as the doors slid closed behind the X-Man. " But I wasn't finished with my explanation yet," he said plaintively.

"Scott," the Professor greeted his longtime student warmly as the team leader entered his office. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got shot multiple times," Scott replied tersely. "You can't find Kitty?"

The Professor shook his head. "I am sorry, Scott. I suppose she does not want us to find her. I have done all I can."

Scott nodded. "Then I will have to do all that I can. Goodbye, Professor."

"Scott!" Xavier called after him, and he paused in the doorway, looking back. The old man spread his hands in a helpless gesture. "Can you forgive a pig-headed old fool with no eyes to see with, and no ears to hear with?"

The younger man was silent for a moment. "We all make mistakes, Charles. After all, we're only human." And with a faint smile, he was gone.

* * *

…**Eight Months Later**

"Yes, how can I help you?" Sandra smiled brightly at the handsome man with the cane who had just come up to her desk.

"I'm looking for a Kathy Anderson," he replied pleasantly. "She's the IT Security Manager here at Altworld, correct?"

Sandra nodded. "Yes sir." She privately thanked her lucky stars again that she'd been assigned to be Ms. Anderson's secretary rather than one of the corporate VIPs. Whenever she talked to the other girls in the break room, she heard horror stories about how their bosses treated them like slaves. Anderson was very hands off, and always polite. "Do you have an appointment?"

The man chuckled ruefully. "A very long overdue appointment, I would say."

Sandra frowned. Had she somehow forgotten to write it down? She checked the book quickly, and found nothing for Tuesday, 3:00. She looked back up with a slightly nervous smile. This man looked important, and she didn't want him complaining about her and getting her reassigned just when things were looking good. "I'm so sorry, sir. I guess there was some mistake, we weren't expecting you. But I can go in and see if Ms. Anderson is free."

The man smiled again. "No, no. I wouldn't be on the books. I'm… an old friend. Just go tell her Scott Summers is here to see her, please."

Sandra nodded. Rising, she walked back to the office and rapped on the door. "Ms. Anderson?"

"Come in!"

Sandra opened the door and peeked in. Ms. Anderson was typing furiously at her computer, her hair put up but slowly escaping the confines of the loose knot to hang in little tendrils in front of her face. "Hang on a sec." After another moment she stopped, sighed, and pushed her chair back. "Sheesh," she exclaimed, rubbing at her shoulders. "This code really doesn't want to co-operate. What did you want to see me about?"

"There a man here to see you, Ms. Anderson. He doesn't have an appointment, but he says he's an old friend. Scott Summers?"

Ms. Anderson froze, then slowly looked up at her secretary. "S-Scott Summers?" When Sandra nodded, her shoulders slumped, and she muttered something very unladylike under her breath. "He's… out there?"

"Yes," Sandra said patiently. Inwardly, she was itching with curiosity. Who was this mystery man? She was going to have some killer gossip for the break room, that was for sure.

"I'm a mess!" Ms. Anderson wailed, ineffectually pushing her hair back from her face. "And the office!" Cups of cold coffee were everywhere, conducting a gradual hostile takeover of the room, and papers were piled in untidy stacks on all available surfaces. She eyed the window speculatively. "How high up are we? D'you think I could climb to the roof from here?"

"Now, if he's an old friend, I don't think he'll care so much, Miss," Sandra reassured her, picking up as many of the coffee mugs as she could safely manage. "But if you want, I can tell him to come back another time."

Ms. Anderson collapsed back in her chair. "No. No point in dragging this out. Send him in." She sounded like she was going to face the firing squad.

Sandra nodded quietly and went back to her desk, where Mr. Summers was waiting patiently. "You just go right in, sir. She's expecting you."

Summers inclined his head politely. "Thank you."

Sandra waited until he went down the hall into the office, closing the door behind him, then quickly followed and cautious applied her ear to the door. She wasn't going to miss this for the world.

Kitty got to her feet, feeling butterflies in her stomach, as the door to her office swung open and Scott came in. He was even more handsome than she'd remembered, now carrying a silver-headed cane which he used to support his gait from time to time. He closed the door after himself, then twitched his head back at it. "I like the name on the door, Ms. 'Anderson'."

She swallowed. "It, ah, seemed appropriate."

Scott took a step closer and studied her, and she flushed slightly under his intense gaze. "You are a very hard woman to find, Katherine Pryde," he said evenly. "Eight months. You just disappeared. The only clue I finally got was from the phone calls to your parents, and those were nearly impossible to trace… you've certainly made it interesting."

"But you found me," Kitty said quietly. "Why? Why couldn't you follow my wishes and leave me in peace?"

His mouth quirked. "Because I do not believe you are in peace, any more than I am," he replied calmly. "Rather I am in pieces. At least two. One is with me, and the other… the other is with you. I think the missing piece was from somewhere in here." He gestured at his chest. "It has been difficult living without it."

She felt like her soul was holding its breath. "You don't mean that."

Scott took a step closer. "But I do. You never let me tell you, Kitty. Jean and I were separated before I came to get you. At first that was her decision. But in the end, it was mine as well. Those few days with you, I found something I never knew I wanted, never even knew existed. I found you. And once I found you, I couldn't live without you. Please, don't make me."

Kitty's eyes fluttered as he touched her cheek. "Scott," she whispered.

He stroked her skin with his thumb as he looked deep into her eyes. "I'll tell you again what I told you once. There is nowhere in the world I would rather be than here with you. And that is because I love you, Katherine Pryde, as a man loves a woman." He leaned forward and kissed her.

Kitty saw colored stars explode behind her eyes as she abandoned caution, throwing her arms around him and pulling him close. For a moment, everything stopped existing save for two perfectly happy people whose souls were joined in a kiss…

…and one deliriously happy secretary, who had the break room story of a lifetime.


End file.
